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A WISCONSIN WOMAN'S PICTURE 
OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN 



BY 

CORDELIA A. P. HARVEY 




Reprinted from the Wisconsin Magazine of History 
Volume I, Number 3, March, 1918 




(OI'.DKI.IA A. I'. IIAKNKY 

I'loMi .1 |i;ii>tc>;rr,i|)li in tlie Wisconsin Historical Library 



A WISCONSIN WOMAN'S PICTURE 
OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN 



BY- 
CORDELIA A^Pr HARVEY 




Reprinted from the Wisconsin Magazine of History 
Volume I, Number 3, March, 1918 



E457 
•IS" 

LINCOLNMMA 



n 



A WISCONSIN WOMAN'S PICTURE OF PRESI- 
DENT LINCOLN 

Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

Hundreds of loyal women labored devotedly during the 
Civil War ministering to the needs of the northern soldiers. 
Of them all, none worked more effectively or earned a larger 
measure of appreciation and devotion on the part of those she 
served than Mrs. Cordelia A. P. Harvey, wife of Governor 
Lewis Harvey of Wisconsin. After his tragic death by 
drowning at Savannah, Tennessee, while engaged in a mission 
of mercy to Wisconsin's wounded soldiers, Mrs. Hai-vey con- 
ceived the idea that it was her duty to carry forward the work 
that her husband had left unfinished. In September, 1862, 
Governor Salomon appointed her sanitary agent at St. Louis, 
and until the end of the war she continued in this service. 
Some idea of her methods and of their effectiveness may be 
gained from the narrative which follows. ^Vhat the soldiers 
thought of her is sufficiently indicated by the title "The Angel 
of Wisconsin," which they bestowed upon her. 

The narrative we print is from INIrs. Harvey's typcAvritten 
copy of a lecture which she dehvered following the close of 
the war. This manuscript the owner, IMrs. James Selkirk of 
Clinton, Wisconsin, permitted the Wisconsin History Com- 
mission to copy a few years since, and it was made the basis, 
in large part, of chapters VIII and IX of Hum's Wisconsiii 
Women in the War between the States, published by the com- 
mission in 1911. Prior to this the portion of the paper per- 
taining to President Lincoln was drawn upon by J. G. 
Holland in preparing his life of Lincoln. Thus the paper has 
twice been drawn upon freely for publication. Notwithstand- 
ing this, the complete story in Mrs. Harvey's o^vn words is 
sufficiently interesting and important to justify its publico- 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

tion at this time. In the preparation of the narrative for 
pubhcation a few changes in punctuation and typography 
have been made, and one paragraph, clearly interpolated for 
the benefit of the lecturer's younger hearers, has been deleted. 
These things aside, the story is now printed for the first time 
just as Mrs. Harvey composed it. 

Perhaps it is not well to open too frequently the deep 
wells of past sorrow that we may drink the bitter draughts 
which memory offers. Still, we would not forget the past — 
our glorious past — with all its terrible trials, its untold suffer- 
ings, its unwritten history. The Christian never forgets the 
dying groans on Calvary that gave to him his soul's salvation ; 
neither can an American citizen forget the great price paid 
for the life and liberty of this nation. Next to love of God is 
love of country. 

It is not my object to awaken any morbid feelings of 
sentimental sorrow, or to open again the deep wounds which 
time has healed. Neither do I wish to serve up to an un- 
healthy imagination a dish of fearful horrors from which a 
healthy organization must turn away. I would only ask you 
to look at the shadows a little while, that the life and light of 
peace and plenty which now fill our land may by contrast 
impress upon your hearts a pictm-e more beautiful than any 
artist could place on canvas. Shadows always make the light 
more beautiful. 

In the fall of 1862 I found myself in Cape (iirardeau, 
where hospitals were being improvised for the immediate use 
of the sick and dying then being brought in from the swamps 
by the returning regiments and up the rivers in closely 
crowded liospital boats. These hospitals were mere sheds 
filled with cots as thick as they could stand, with scarcely room 
for one person to pass between them. Pneumonia, typhoid, 
and camp fevers, and that fearful scoin-ge of the southern 
swamps and rivers, chronic diarrhea, occupied every bed. A 

2 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

surgeon once said to me, "There is nothing else there: here 
I see pneumonia, and there fever, and on that cot another 
disease, and I see nothing else! You had better stay away; 
the air is full of contagion, and contagion and sympathy do 
not go well together." 

One daj^ a woman passed through these uncomfortable, 
illy-ventilated, hot, unclean, infected, wretched rooms, and 
she saw something else there. A hand reached out and 
clutched her dress. One caught her shawl and kissed it, 
another her hand, and pressed it to his fevered cheek ; another 
in wild delirium, cried, "I want to go home! I want to go 
home! Lady! Lady! Take me in your chariot, take me 
away!" This was a fair-haired, blue-eyed boy of the South, 
who had left family and friends forever; obeying his country's 
call, he enlisted under the stars and stripes because he could 
not be a traitoi*. He was therefore disowned, and was now 
dying among strangers with his mother and sisters not twenty 
miles away ; and they knew that he was dying and would not 
come to him. Father, forgive them, they knew not what they 
did. 

As this woman passed, these "diseases," as the surgeon 
called them, whispered and smiled at each other, and even 
reached out and took hold of each others' hands, saying, "She 
will take us home, I know her ; she will not leave us here to die," 
not dreaming that hovering just above them was a white 
robed one, who in a short time would take them to their 
heavenly home. 

This woman failed to see on these cots aught but the 
himian [beings] they were to her, the sons, brothers, husbands, 
and fathers of anxious weeping ones at home; and as such 
she cared for and thought of them. Arm in arm with health, 
she visited day by day every sufferer's cot, doing, it is true, 
very little, but alwaj^s taking with her from the outside world 
fresh air, fresh flowers, and all the hope and comfort she 
could find in hej* heart to give them. Now and then one ^\'ould 

3 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

totter forth into the open air, his good constitution having 
overcome disease, and the longings for life so strong within 
him that he grasped at straws, determined to live. If per- 
chance he could get a furlough, in a few weeks a strong man 
would return and greet you with, "How do you do, I am on 
my way to my regiment!" Who this stranger might be, 
you could never imagine until reminded by him of the skeleton 
form and trembling steps you had so recently watched going 
to the landing, homeward bound. But if, as was too fre- 
quently the case, he was sent to convalescent camps, in a few 
weeks he was returned to hospital, and again to camp, and 
thus continued to vibrate between camp and hospital until 
hope and life were gone. This was the fate of thousands. 

On a steamer from Cape Girardeau to Helena at table one 
day ^\hen the passengers were dining, among whom were 
several military officers, I heard a young major of the regular 
army very coolly remark that it was much cheaper for the 
government to keep her sick soldiers in hospitals on the river 
than to furlough them. A lady present quietly replied, 
"That is true. Major, if all were faithful to the government, 
but unfortunately a majority of the surgeons in the army 
have conscientious scruples, and verilj' believe it to be their 
duty to keep these sick men alive as long as possible. To be 
sure, their uneaten rations increased the hospital fund and 
so enabled your surgeons generously to provide all needed 
delicacies for the sick, but the pay was drawn by the soldiers 
from the government all the same. Don't you think, Sir, 
it would be a trifle more economical," continued the lady, "to 
send these poor fellows north for a few weeks, to regain their 
strength, that they might return at once to active service?" 
The laughter of his brother officers prevented my hearing his 
reply. 

This young officer was the medical director at Helena, 
where I found over two thousand graves of Noi'tlierners. 
Two-thirds of these men might have been saved, could they 

4 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

have been sent north. The surgeon in charge of the general 
hospital, when asked why he did not furlough some of the men 
from his over-crowded hospitals, replied that he had at one 
time and another made out certificates of disability for fur- 
lough for nearly every man in his hospital and for hundreds 
who rested on the nearby hill, but when sent for the signature 
and approval of the medical director, they had invariably been 
returned, disapproved; that he had also permitted the men 
themselves to go with their papers, only to have them severely 
reproved and ordered back to hospital, and, said he, with tears 
in his eyes, "many of them never returned, for, broken- 
hearted, they have lain down by the roadside and died." 

I once heard a person who had been instrumental in giving 
a dying boy back to his mother, that she might nurse him 
back to life, relate how it was done. The mother had suc- 
ceeded in getting her son as far as St. Louis where his papers 
were to be sent. They came in the usual Avay to the medical 
director, were all wrong, of course — not made out according 
to army regulations and must therefore be returned to his 
regiment, which was somewhere with Sherman and could not 
be reached. The mother received the papers with that fearful 
word "disapproved" written upon them. There was nothing 
to do but to place her sick son in a St. Louis hospital, and 
leave him there to die; she must return to her family. She 
told her stoiy with streaming eyes and a broken lieart. The 
woman impulsively said, "Give me the papers," and off she 
went to the medical director's office. He was a man full six 
feet high, over fifty years of age, a head like Oliver Crom- 
well's, a face stern as fate, and of the regular army. She 
entered liis presence, seated herself, and waited to be spokeii 
to. 

Soon it came with, "What do you want?" 

"To talk with you a moment. General," she replied. 

"No time for talking." 

"I will wait," she said. 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

He wrote a few moments, then said, "May as well hear 
it now as ever — what is it?" 

"I would like to ask you if you had a son in this volunteer 
service, sent up from tlie South as far as St. Louis, sick and 
like to die, and some ignorant, careless officer had made out 
his furlough papers wrong — " 

"What do you want!" 

" — would you not he glad, if you were away, if your poor 
boy could find a friend?" 

"What do you want, I say? This is nothing to the 
purpose." 

"Do you not think that friend ought to do all she could 
to save your boy?" 

"What is all this nonsense?" 

"Only this: a poor mother is at the Soldiers' Home with 
her dying son. The phj^sicians say he may live if he is sent 
north, but will surely die if left here. His furlough papers 
have been sent on, and I have seen them, and know they are 
wrong. His regiment is with Sherman on the march. Can- 
not something be done for the boy — for his mother?" 

"We have the army regidations, we cannot go behind 
them. You know if I do, they will rap me over the knuckles 
at Washington." 

"Oh, that your knuckles were mine. I would be Avilling 
to have them skinned ; the skin would grow again, you know." 

"Where are these papers?" he said sharply. 

"I have them here in my pocket." 

"Let me see them." 

The woman took them slowly out, blank side upwards, 
and gave them to him. He turned them and his face flushed 
as he said, "Why I have had these papers and disapproved 
them. This is my signature." 

She replied tremblingly, "I knew it, but forgive me. I 
thought maybe when you knew about it. General — and the 
mother was weeping with the skeleton arms of her boy around 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

her neck — I thought maybe you would do something or tell 
me something to do." 

"Suppose I do apjirove these papers, it will do no good. 
The general in command will stop them and censure me." 

"But you will have done all you could and have obeyed 
the higher law." 

In the meantime this truly noble man had fiimly crossed 
out his own words and signature, and rewritten under it words 
of approval, and in a quick, husky tone, said, "Take it and 
don't you come here again today." As the woman raised 
her eyes to thank him, she saw a scowl on his brow, but a 
smile on his lips, and a tear in his eye. 

"The general in command," said she in relating the story, 
"never went behind the medical director's signature. The 
boy started for home that night with his mother, full of hope. 

Not long after this an incident occurred showing how 
easily man yields to the higher law when once he makes 
humanity his standpoint. An erring boy of nineteen, who 
had deserted from a ]\Iinnesota regiment, changed his name, 
enlisted in the gunboat service from which he again deserted, 
again changed his name, and enlisted in a Wisconsin regi- 
ment, a little unsteady to be sure, but still a soldier. He was 
womided in a battle, honorably discharged from the service, 
and paid off. On Saturday night he reached St. Louis 
and found his way to one of her lowest dens, was drugged and 
robbed of everything he possessed. On Monday he was 
found tossing from side to side stricken by disease. His 
surroundings were terrible, and he was lying on an old, filthy 
mattress which had been thrown into the open hall by the 
frightened inmates. He was screaming with pain and was at 
times delirious. As soon, however, as he heard the soothing 
tones of a himian voice, and recognized the hand of kindness 
on his burning brow, he cried, "JNIother! Oh, Mother, forgive 
me, God forgive me ! I have sinned. What shall I do! What 
shall I do!" Conscience and disease were doing their work. 



Cordelia A. P. II awe n 

Softly siJeaking to him words of comfort and hope, our 
friend released herself from his grasp, promising to return 
in half an hour to take him away. This was easier said than 
done. This soldier was now a citizen, and could not, there- 
fore, be admitted into a military hospital. His disease was 
of such a nature that in all prohability he must die — but his 
widowed mother, far away, must she know that her darling 
soldier had died in such a place? God forbid! An order 
must be had to place him in a military hospital. 

The woman goes to her old friend, the medical director, 
and tells her story in as few words as possible, saying, "Gener- 
al, write an order quick to the surgeon in charge of the Fifth 
Street hospital, that the boy may be received. I also want 
an ambulance, mattress, and bedding, and some men to help 
me move him." 

"Yes, yes, but listen, I have no right, I can't do it." 

"I know — I know, but please do hurry — I promised to be 
back in half an hour, and the boy will expect me." 

The general, calling a boy and imitating her voice, said, 
"Hurry, hurry, boy ! Get the best ambulance we have, a good 
mattress and bedding, and some men and go with INIadamc 
and do whatever she bids you to do. Here is the order, what 
else do you want? Henceforth we do what you wish and no 
questions asked. It is the easiest way and I guess the only 
way to get along with you." The mother mounied her son's 
death, but not his disgrace. In after months, this worthy 
officer by daring to take responsibility jjerformed many acts 
which will gladden his dying hours. 

In this way, one could be snatched from suffering and 
death now and then, but Oh! the thousands that were beyond 
the reach of hmuan aid, and the niunbers that no private 
individual power could help — only the great military power ! 
This conviction first led to the thought of providing, if pos- 
sible, some place where invalids could be sent north, without 
the trouble of furloughs. The idea of northern military hos- 

8 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

pitals seemed practicable and so natural that we never once 
thought the authorities would oppose the movement. For 
nearly a year this question was agitated and urged with all 
the force that logic, position, and influence could bring to 
bear ; but all in vain. Hope was well nigh dead within us. 

This depression in the South because of the utter failure 
of the government to provide a way by which the enfeebled 
soldiers might be restored to strength at last suggested the 
thought of going directly to the head, to tlie President. By 
sending it up by one authority and another, by this officer 
and that one, we began to feel that the message lost the flavor 
of truth, and got cold before it reached the deciding power; 
and because it was so lukewarm he spued it out of his mouth. 
It is always best if you wish to secure an object, if you have 
a certain purpose to accomplish, to go at once to the highest 
power, be your own petitioner, in temporal as in spiritual 
matters, officiate at your own altar, be your own priest. 

I am going to give you another chapter in my own experi- 
ence, as it was, if I can do so, without the least coloring. 
There is not a more difficult task than that of relating simple 
facts in such a manner as to convey an entirely correct im- 
pression. The difficulty is increased when the relator is an 
interested party. I tnist I shall not. be accused of egotism if 
I give the exact conversations between Mr. Lincoln and my- 
self, as taken down at the time, for in no other y/ay can I 
so well picture to you our much loved and martyred president 
as he then appeared at the White House. As I said before. 
the necessity for establishing military hospitals in the North 
had long been a subject of much thought among our people, 
but it was steadily opposed by the authorities. 

By the advice of friends and with an intense feeling that 
something must be done, I went to Washington. I entered 
the White House, not with fear and trembling, but strong 
and self-possessed, fully conscious of the righteousness of my 
mission. I was received without delay. I had never seen ]Mr. 



Cordelia A. F. Harvey 

Lincoln before. He was alone, in a medium sized office-like 
room, no elegance about him, no elegance in him. He was 
plainly clad in a suit of black that illy fitcd him. Xo fault 
of his tailor, however; such a figure covild not be fitted. He 
was tall and lean, and as he sat in a folded up sort of way in 
a deep arm chair, one would almost have thought him de- 
formed. At his side stood a high writing desk and table com- 
bined; plain straw matting covered the floor; a few stuffed 
chairs and sofa covered with green worsted completed the 
furniture of the presence chamber of the president of this 
great republic. When I first saw him his head was bent for- 
ward, his chin resting on his breast, and in his hand a letter 
which I had just sent in to him. 

He raised his eyes, saying, "JSIrs. Harvey?" 
I hastened forward, and rephed, "Yes, and I am glad to 
see you, Mr. Lincoln." So much for republican presentations 
and ceremony. The President took my hand, hoped I was 
well, but there was no smile of welcome on his face. It was 
rather the stem look of the judge who had decided against 
me. His face was peculiar; bone, nerve, vein, and muscle were 
all so plainly seen ; deep lines of thought and care were around 
his mouth and eyes. The word "justice" came into my mind, 
as though I could read it upon his face — I mean that extended 
sense of the word that comprehends the practice of every 
virtue which reason prescribes and society should expect. The 
debt we owe to God, to man, to ourselves, when paid, is but 
a simple act of justice, a duty performed. This attribute 
seemed the source of Mr. Lincoln's strength. He motioned 
me to a chair. I sat, and silently read his face while he was 
reading a paper written by one of our senators, introducing 
me and my mission. When he had finished reading this he 
looked up, ran his fingers through his hair, well silvered, 
though the brown then predominated; his beard was more 
whitened. 

In a moment he looked at me with a good deal of sad 
severity and said, "^Nladam, this matter of northern hospitals 

10 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

has been talked of a great deal, and I thought it was settled, 
but it seems not. What have you got to say about it?" 

"Only this, IMr. Lincoln, that many soldiers in our western 
army on the JMississippi River must have northern air or die. 
There are thousands of graves all along our southern rivers 
and in the swamps for which the government is responsible, 
ignorantly, undoubtedly, but this ignorance must not con- 
tinue. If you Avill permit these men to come north you will 
have ten men where you have one now." 

The president could not see the force or logic in this last 
argument. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "If your 
reasoning were correct, it would be a good argument." I 
saw that I had misspoken. "I don't see how," he continued, 
"sending one sick man north is going to give us in a year ten 
well ones." 

A quizzical smile played over his face at my slight embar- 
rassment. "]Mr. Lincoln, you understand me, I think. I 
intended to say, if you will let the sick come north, you will 
have ten well men in the army one year from today, where 
you have one well one now; whereas, if you do not let them 
come north, you will not have one from the ten, for they will 
all be dead." 

"Yes, yes, I understand you; but if they are sent north, 
they will desert; where is the difference?" 

"Dead men cannot fight," I answered, "and they may not 
desert." 

Mr. Lincoln's eye flashed as he replied, "A fine way, a fine 
way to decimate the army, we should never get a man of them 
back, not one, not one." 

"Indeed, but you must pardon me when I say you are mis- 
taken ; you do not understand our people. You do not trust 
them sufficiently. They are as true and as loyal to the govern- 
ment as you say. The loyalty is among the common soldiers 
and they have ever been the chief sufferers." 

11 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

"This is your opinion," he said with a sort of a sneer. 
"Mrs. Harvey, how many men do you suppose the govern- 
ment was paying in the iVrmy of the Potomac at the hattle of 
Antietam, and how many men do you suppose could be got 
for active service at that time? I wish you would give a 
guess." 

" I know nothing of the Army of the Potomac, only there 
were some noble sacrifices there. When I spoke of loyalty, I 
referred to our western army." 

"Well, now, give a guess. How many?" 

"I cannot, IMr. President." 

He threw himself around in the chair, one leg over the arm, 
and again spoke slowly: "This war might have been finished 
at that time if every man had been in his place that was able 
to be there, but they were scattered hither and thither over 
the North, some on furloughs, and in one way or another, 
gone; so that out of 170,000 men which the government was 
paying at that time, only 83,000 could be got for action. The 
consequences, you know, proved nearly disastrous." 

"It was very sad but the delinquents were certainly not 
in northern hospitals, neither were they deserters therefrom, 
for there are none. This is, therefore, no argument against 
them." 

"Well, well, INIrs. Harvey, you go and see the Secretary 
of War and talk with him and hear what he has to say." This 
he said thouglitfuUy, and took up the letter I had given him, 
and after writing something on the back of it gave it to me. 

"]May I retiu*n to you, Mr. Lincoln?" I asked. 

"Certainly," he replied, and his voice was gentler than it 
had been before. 

I left him for the war department. I found written on 
the back of tlie letter tliese words, "Admit ]\Irs. Harvey at 
once; listen to what she says; she is a lady of intelligence 
and talks sense. A. Lincoln." Not, of course, displeased 
with the introduction, I went on my way to ISIr. Stanton, om* 

12 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

secretary of war, about whose severity I had heard so much 
that I must confess I dreaded the interview ; but I was kindly 
received, hstened to respectfully, and answered politely. And 
let me say here, as a passing tribute to this great and good 
man, that I never knew a clearer brain, a truer heart, a nobler 
spirit than Edwin M. Stanton. I have watched him by the 
hour, listening to and deciding questions of minor moment 
as well as those of greater importance — those upon which the 
fate of the nation depended, and yet he never wavered. Quick 
to see the right, he never hesitated to act. His foresight and 
his strength seemed at times more than himian. His place as 
a statesman will not be filled in this century. 

But to return to my interview with him. After under- 
standing the object for Avhich I came, he told me he had sent 
the Surgeon-General to New Orleans with directions to come 
up the river and examine all hospitals. In short, I understood 
he had started on a tour of inspection, which meant nothing 
at all so far as the suffering was concerned. I told Mr. 
Stanton, "Our western hospitals have never received any 
benefit from these inspections, and we have very little con- 
fidence that any good would result from them. Any person 
with discernment, with a medium allowance of common 
sense and humanity, who is loyal, and has been through our 
southern river hospitals, knows and feels the necessity for 
what I ask, and yet you say you have never received a report 
to this effect. The truth is, the medical authorities know the 
heads of departments do not wish hospitals established so far 
away from army lines, and report accordingly. I wish this 
could be overruled ; can nothing be done?" 

"Nothing, until the Surgeon-General returns," Mr. Stan- 
ton replied. 

"Good morning," I said, and left him, not at all disap- 
pointed. 

Returning to INIr. Lincoln, I found it was past the usual 
hour for receiving and no one was in the waiting-room. The 

13 



Cordelia A. P. Harvei/ 

messenger said 1 had better go directly into the President's 
room. It would be more comfortable waiting there, and there 
was only one gentleman with him and he would soon be 
through. I found my way to the back part of the room, and 
seated myself on a sofa in such a position that the desk was 
between INIr. Lincoln and me. I do not think that he knew 
I was there. The gentleman with him had given him a paper. 
The President looked at it carefully and said, "Yes, this is 
sufficient endorsement for anybody; what do you want?" 

I could not hear the reply distinctly, but the promotion 
of somebody in the army, either a son or a brother, was 
strongly urged. I heard the Avords, "I see there are no 
vacancies among brigadiers, from the fact that so many 
colonels are commanding brigades." 

At this the President threw himself forward in his chair 
in such a manner as to show me the most curious, comical face 
in the world. He was looking the man straight in the eye, 
with the left hand raised to a horizontal position, and his 
right hand patting it coaxingly, and said, "My friend, let 
me tell you something; you are a farmer, I believe; if not, 
you will understand me. Suppose you had a large cattle 
yard, full of all sorts of cattle, cows, oxen, and bulls, and you 
kept selling your cows and oxen, taking good care of your 
bulls; bye and bye, you Avould find that you had nothing but 
a yard full of old bulls, good for nothing under heaven, and 
it will be just so with my army if I don't stop making 
brigadier generals." The man was answered ; he coidd scarce- 
ly laugh, though he tried to do so, but you should have seen 
Mr. Lincoln laugh — he laughed all over, and fully enjoyed 
the point if no one else did. The stoiy, if not elegant, was 
certainl}^ apropos. 

As I commenced to tell you everything I remember of 
this singular man, this must fill its place. The gentleman 
soon departed, fully satisfied. I doubt not, for it Mas a saying 
at Washington Avhen one met a petitioner, "Has j\Ir. Lincoln 

14 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

told you a story? If he has, it is all day with you. He never 
says 'yes' after a story." 

I stepped forward as soon as the door closed. The Presi- 
dent motioned to a chair near him. "Well, what did the Secre- 
tary of War say?" 

I gave a full account of the interview, and then said, "I 
have nowhere else to go but to you." 

He rephed earnestly, "Mr. Stanton knows very well that 
there is an acting surgeon-general here, and that Hammond 
will not be back these two months. I will see the Secretary 
of War myself, and you come in the morning." 

I arose to take leave, when he bade me not to hasten, spoke 
kindly of my work, said he fully appreciated the spirit in 
which I came. He smiled pleasantly and bade me good eve- 
ning. 

As I left the White House, 1 met Owen Lovejoy who 
greeted me cordially and asked, "How long are you going to 
stay here?" 

"Until I get what I came after," I replied. 

"That's right, that's right; go on, I believe in the final 
perseverance of the saints." 

I have never forgotten these words, perhaps it is because 
they were the last I ever heard him utter. 

I returned in the morning, full of hope, thinking of the 
pleasant face I had left the evening before, but no smile 
greeted me. The President was evidently annoyed by some- 
thing, and waited for me to speak, which I did not do. I 
afterward learned his annoyance was caused by a woman 
pleading for the life of a son who was sentenced to be shot for 
desertion under very aggravating circumstances. 

After a moment he said, "Well," with a peculiar contor- 
tion of face I never saw in anybody else. 

I replied, "Well," and he looked at me a little astonished, 
I fancied, and said, "Have you nothing to say?" 

15 



Cordelia A. P. Ilarvci/ 

"Nothing, Mr. President, until I hear your decision. You 
bade me come this morning; have you decided?" 

"No, but I believe this idea of northern hospitals is a 
great humbug, and I am tired of hearing about it." He spoke 
impatiently. 

I replied, "I regret to add a feather's weight to your 
already overwhelming care and responsibilitJ^ I would rather 
have stayed at home." 

With a kind of half smile, he said, "I wish you had." 

I answered him as though he had not smiled. "Nothing 
would have given me greater pleasure; but a keen sense of 
duty to this government, justice and mercy to its most loyal 
supporters, and regard for your honor and position made me 
come. The people cannot understand why their friends are 
left to die when with proper care they might live and do good 
service for their country. INIr. Lincoln, I believe you will 
be grateful for my coming." He looked at me intently; I 
could not tell if he were annoyed or not, and as he did not 
speak, I continued: "I do not come to plead for the lives of 
criminals, not for the lives of deserters, not for those who 
have been in the least disloyal. I come to plead for the lives 
of those who were the first to hasten to the support of this 
government, who helped to place you where you are, because 
they trusted you. Men who have done all they could, and 
now when flesh, and nerve, and muscle are gone, still pray 
for your life and the life of this republic. They scarcely ask 
for that for which I plead — they expect to sacrifice their lives 
for their country. Many on their cots, faint, sick, and dying, 
say, 'We would gladly do more, but I suppose that is all 
right.' I know that a majority of them would live and be 
strong men again if they could be sent north. I say I know, 
because when I was sick among them last spring, surrounded 
by every comfort, with the best of care, and determined to 
get well, I grew weaker day by day, uptil, not being under 

16 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

military law, my friends brought me north. I recovered 
entirely, simply by breathing northern air." 

While I was speaking the expression of Mr. Lincoln's 
face had changed many times. He had never taken his eye 
from me. Now every muscle in his face seemed to contract, 
and then suddenly expand. As he opened his mouth you 
could almost hear them snap as he said, "You assimie to know 
more than I do," and closed his mouth as though he never 
expected to open it again, sort of slammed it to. 

I could scarcely reply. I was hurt, and thought the tears 
would come, but rallied in a moment and said, "You must 
pardon me, Mr. President, I intend no disrespect, but it is 
because of this loiowledge, because I do know what you do 
not know, that I come to you. If you knew what I do and 
had not ordered what I ask for, I should know that an appeal 
to you would be vain ; but I believe the people have not trusted 
you for naught. The question only is whether you believe me 
or not. If you believe me you will give me hospitals, if not, 
weU— " 

With the same snapping of muscle he again said, "You 
assiune to know more than surgeons do." 

"Oh, no! JSIr. Lincoln, I covild not perform an amputa- 
tion nearly as well as some of them do; indeed, I do not 
think I could do it at all. But this is true — I do not come 
here for your favor, I am not an aspirant for military honor. 
While it would be the pride of my life to be able to win your 
respect and confidence, still, this I can waive for the time 
being. Now the medical authorities know as well as I do that 
you are opposed to establishing northern military hospitals, 
and they report to please you ; they desire your favor. I come 
to you from no casual tour of inspection, passing rapidly 
through the general hospitals, in the principal cities on the 
river, with a cigar in my mouth and a rattan in my hand, 
talking to the surgeon in charge of the price of cotton and 
abusing the generals in our army for not knowing and per- 

17 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

forming their duty better, and finally coming into the open 
air, with a long-drawn breath as though just having escaped 
suffocation, and complacently saying, 'You have a very fine 
hospital here ; the boys seem to be doing very well, a little more 
attention to ventilation is perhaps desirable.' 

"It is not thus ; I have visited the hospitals, but from early 
morning until late at night sometimes. I have visited the 
regimental and general hospitals on the INIississippi River 
from Quincy to Vicksburg, and I come to you from the cots 
of men who have died, who might have lived had you per- 
mitted. This is hard to say, but it is none the less tnie." 

During the time that I had been speaking jMr. Lincoln's 
brow had become very much contracted, and a severe scowl 
had settled over his whole face. He sharply asked how many 
men Wisconsin had in the field, that is, how many did she 
send? I rephed, "About 50,000, I think, I do not know 
exactly." 

"That means she has about 20,000 now." He looked at 
me, and said, "You need not look so sober, they are not all 
dead." 

I did not reply. I had noticed the veins in his face filling 
full within a fcAv moments, and one vein across his forehead 
was as large as my little finger, and it gave him a frightful 
look. 

Soon, with a quick, impatient movement of his whole 
frame, he said, "I have a good mind to dismiss every man of 
them from the service and have no more trouble with them!" 

I was surprised at his lack of self-control, and I knew 
he did not mean one word of what he said, l)ut what would 
come next? As I looked at him, I was troubled, fearing I 
had said something wrong. He was very pale. 

The silence was painful, and I said as quietly as I coidd, 
"They have been faithful to the government ; they have been 
faithful to you; they will still be loyal to the government, 

18 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

do what you will with them; but if you will grant my peti- 
tion you will be glad as long as you live. The prayer of 
grateful hearts will give you strength in the hom* of trial, 
and strong and willing arms will return to fight your battles." 

The President bowed his head, and with a look of sad- 
ness I can never forget, said, "I never shall be glad any more." 
All severity had passed from his face. He seemed looking 
backward and heartward, and for a moment he seemed to 
forget he was not alone ; a more than mortal anguish rested 
on his face. 

The spell must be broken, so I said, "Do not speak so, 
Mr. President. Who will have so much reason to rejoice 
when the government is restored, as it will be?" 

"I know, I Icnow," he said, placing a hand on each side 
and bowing forward, "but the springs of life are wearing 
away." 

I asked if he felt his great cares were injuring his health. 

"No," he replied, "not directly, perhaps." 

I asked if he slept well, and he said he never was a good 
sleeper, and, of course, slept less now than ever before. He 
said the people did not yet appreciate the magnitude of this 
rebellion, and that it would be a long time before the end. 

I began to feel I was occupying time valuable to him and 
belonging to him. As I arose to take leave, I said, "Have you 
decided upon your answer to the object of my visit?" 

He replied, "No. Come tomorrow morning. No, it is 
[cabinet] meeting tomorrow — yes, come tomorrow at twelve 
o'clock, there is not much for the cabinet to do tomorrow." 
He arose and bade me a cordial goodmorning. 

The next morning I arose with a terribly depressed feel- 
ing that perhaps I was to fail in the object for which I came. 
I found myself constantly looking at my watch and wonder- 
ing if twelve o'clock would ever come. At last I ascended 
the steps of the White House as all visitors were being dis- 
missed, because the President would receive no one on that 

19 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

day. I asked the messenger if that meant me, and he said, 
"No. The President desires you to wait for the cabinet 
will soon adjourn." I waited, and waited, and waited, 
three long hours and more, during which time the President 
sent out twice, saying the cabinet would soon adjourn, that I 
was to wait. I was fully prepared for defeat, and every 
word of my reply was chosen and carefully placed. I walked 
the rooms and studied an immense map tliat covered one side 
of the reception room. I listened, and at last heard many 
footsteps — the cabinet had adjourned. Mr. Lincoln did 
not wait to send for me but came directly into the room Avhere 
I was. It was the first time I had noticed him standing. 
He was very tall and moved with a shuffling, awkward motion. 

He came forward, rubbing his hands, and saying, "]\Iy 
dear JNIadam, I am very soriy to have kept you w^aiting. 
We have but this moment adjourned." 

I replied, "INIy waiting is no matter, but you must be 
very tired, and we will not talk tonight." 

He said, "No. Sit down," and placed himself in a chair 
beside me, and said, "Mrs. Harvey, I only wish to tell you 
that an order equivalent to granting a hospital in your state 
has been issued nearly twenty-four hours." 

I could not speak, I was so entirely unprepared for it. 
I wept for joy, I could not help it. ^Vhen I could speak I 
said, "God bless j'^ou. I thank you in the name of thousands 
who will bless you for the act." Then, remembering how 
many orders had been issued and countermanded, I said, 
"Do you mean, really and truly, tliat we are going to have 
a hospital now?" 

With a look full of himianity and benevolence, he said, 
"I do most certainlj'^ hope so." He spoke very emphatically, 
and no reference was made to any previous opposition. He 
said he wished me to come and see him in the morning and 
he would give me a copy of the order. 

20 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

I was so much agitated I could not talk with him. He 
noticed it and commenced talking upon other subjects. He 
asked me to look at the map before referred to, which, he 
said, gave a very correct idea of the locality of the principal 
battle grounds of Europe. "It is a fine map," he said, point- 
ing out Waterloo and the different battle fields of the Crimea, 
then, smiling, said, "I am afraid you will not like it as well 
when I tell you whose work it is." 

I replied, "It is well done, whosever it may be. Who 
did it, :Mr. Lincohi?" 

"McClellan, and he certainly did do this well. He did it 
while he was at West Point." There was nothing said for 
awhile. Perhaps he was balancing in his own mind the two 
words which were then agitating the heart of the American 
peojile, words Avhich have ever throbbed the great heart of 
nations, words whose power every individual has recognized^ 
"success," and "failure." 

I left shortly after with the promise to call next morn- 
ing, as he desired me to do, at nine o'clock. I suppose the 
excitement caused the intense suffering of that night. I was 
very ill and it was ten o'clock the next morning before I was 
able to send for a carriage to keep my appointment with the 
President. It was past the hour; more than fifty persons 
were in the waiting room. I did not expect an audience, 
but sent in my name and said I would call again. The mes- 
senger said, "Do not go, I think the President will see you 
now." 

I had been but a moment among anxious, expectant, 
waiting faces, when the door opened and the voice said, "Mrs. 
Harvey, the President will see you now." I arose, not a 
little embarrassed to be gazed at so ciu"iously by so many 
with a look that said as plainly as words could, "Who are 
you?" As I passed the crowd, one person said, "She has been 
here every day, and what is more, she is going to win." 

21 



Cordelia A. P. Harvey 

I entered the presence of Mr. Lincoln for the last time. 
He smiled very graciously and drew a chair near him, and 
said, "Come here and sit down." He had a paper in his hand 
which he said was for me to keep. It was a copy of the order 
just issued. I thanked him, not only for the order but for 
the manner and spirit in which it had been given, then said 
I must apologize for not having been there at nine o'clock 
as he desired me to be, but that I had been sick all night. 

He looked up with, "Did joy make you sick?" 

I said, "I don't know, very likely it was the relaxation 
of nerve after intense excitement." 

Still looking at me he said, "I suppose you would have 
been mad if I had said no?" 

I replied, "No, Mr. Lincoln, I should have been neither 
angry nor sick." 

"What would you have done?" he asked curiously. "I 
should have been here at nine o'clock, INIr. President." 

"Well," he laughingly said, "I think I acted wisely, then," 
and suddenly looking up, "Don't you ever get angry?" he 
asked, "I know a little woman not very vmlike you who gets 
mad sometimes." 

I replied, "I never get angry when I have an object to 
gain of the importance of the one under consideration; to 
get angry, you know, would only weaken my cause, and 
destroy my influence." 

"That is true, that is true," he said, decidedly. "This 
hospital I shall name for you." 

I said, "No," but if you would not consider the request 
indelicate, I would like to have it named for INIr. Harvey. 

"Yes, just as well, it shall be so understood if you prefer 
it. I honored your husband, and felt his loss, and now let 
us have this matter settled at once." 

He took a card and wrote a few words upon it, requesting 
the Secretary of War to name the hospital "Han^ey Hos- 
pital," in memory of my husband, and to gratify me he gave 

22 



A Picture of President Lincoln 

me the card, saying, "Now do you take that directly to the 
Secretary of War and have it understood." I thanked him, 
but did not take it to ]Mr. Stanton. The hospital was already 
named. I expressed a wish that he might never regret his 
present action, and said I was sorry to have taken so much 
of his time. 

"Oh, no, you need not be," he said kindly. 

"You will not wish to see me again, Mr. President." 

"I didn't say that and shall not." 

I said, "You have been very kind to me and I am grate- 
ful for it." 

He looked at me from under his eyebrows and said, "You 
almost think me handsome, don't you?" 

His face then beamed with such kind benevolence and was 
lighted by such a pleasant smile that I looked at him, and 
with my usual impulse, said, clasping my hands together, 
"You are perfectly lovely to me, now, Mr. Lincoln." He 
colored a little and laughed most heartily. 

As I arose to go, he reached out his hand, that hand in 
which there was so much power and so little beauty, and held 
mine clasped and covered in his own. I bowed my head and 
pressed my lips most reverently upon the sacred shield, even 
as I would upon my country's shrine. A silent prayer Avent 
up from my heart, "God bless you, Abraham Lincoln." I 
heard him say goodbye, and I was gone. Thus ended the 
most interesting inteiwiew of my life with one of the most 
remarkable men of the age. 

My impressions of him had been so varied, his character 
had assumed so many different phases, his very looks had 
changed so frequently and so entirely, that it almost seemed 
to me I had been conversing with half a dozen different men. 
He blended in his character the most yielding flexibility with 
the most unflinching firmness, child-like simplicity and weak- 
ness with statesmanlike wisdom and masterly strength, but 
over and around all was thrown the mantle of an unquestioned 
integrity. 

23 



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